


Striped Red & White

by Ohlookitstomorrow



Series: TWW Winter Fluff Event [19]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Prompt - Tradition, Written for WW2018WinterFluffEvent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 14:02:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17122730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohlookitstomorrow/pseuds/Ohlookitstomorrow
Summary: Mildred tries to bring some of her own Yuletide traditions into the cold halls of Cackles.





	Striped Red & White

Mildred loved the season of Advent: without a doubt, it was her favourite time of year. In the witching world; traditions differed slightly from the ones she grew up with, but even Ethel’s teasing couldn’t stop Mildred from revelling in the excitement of experiencing a magical Yule for the first time.

When she awoke on the 13th of December, Mildred was filled with joy. “It’s the first day of Christmas, Tabby!” Her familiar meowed from her position on the bed, a disinterested look on her face. “Trust me, Tabby, everyone is so happy at this time of year, it’s the bats!”

As she dressed, Mildred noticed the red and green jumper that her Mum had knitted her, hanging in the back of the wardrobe. The wool smelled like home and Mildred couldn’t resist the urge to throw it over her uniform and snuggle into the comfort.

In typical fashion, Mildred had lost track of time, her stomach rumbled in protest as she ran down the corridor heading toward the potions classroom - her lack of timekeeping meant she’d missed breakfast, and was very nearly late to her first class.

Entering the classroom, Mildred flopped onto her desk; sweat running down her forehead, chest rising rapidly in an attempt to recapture her breath. Once she’d regained her composure (or some semblance of it) Mildred, sat up and found all eyes on her. Looking to her left, she offered Enid a grin, her friend stared back at her, mouth hanging open comically. 

“What are you wearing?” Asked Maud, seated beside her.

“It’s my Christmas jumper,” Mildred declared proudly, directing the girl’s attention to the decorations crocheted onto the fabric. Concentric wreaths of holly repeated themselves in several rows, and in the middle, the smiling face of an elf. “Do you like it?”

Maud didn't get the chance to answer; all of a sudden, the room went eerily quiet, and the voice of Miss Hardbroom emanated like ice. “Mildred Hubble, why must you insist on continuously breaking the rules? I didn’t realise this schools dress-code, included personalised knitwear.”

One could never tell what Miss Hardbroom was thinking, her face and voice hardly (if ever) showed any hint of expression. Looking at her teacher now, Mildred couldn’t tell if Miss Hardbroom was angry or genuinely confused. “It’s my Christmas jumper, it’s tradition to wear one this time of year...” 

Miss Hardbroom’s eyebrow arched; “tradition?”

Now Mildred was the one who felt confused, “err, it’s something specific you do on a-“

“Yes, I know what a tradition is, thank you,” the older witch interrupted. “What I want to know is, why you thought it an appropriate option to wear to my class?”

Face growing hot with nerves, Mildred tried to give a reason that Miss Hardbroom would deem acceptable. “It reminds me of home, don’t you have a tradition that reminds you of your family?”

Eyes cast down, Miss Hardbroom turned away, walking to her position behind her desk - it was as though the solid oak was a safe place in a game of tag. “We didn’t have any traditions when I was a child,” the teacher mumbled.

Taking the ‘we’ to mean Miss Hardbroom’s family, Mildred felt a pang of guilt for asking such a question - she could see the sadness in the tremble of Miss Hardbroom’s Hands as they grasped her watch. Mildred didn’t know much about her potion mistress' personal life - she didn’t think anybody did - Miss Hardbroom was a proverbial, brick wall. Mildred couldn’t imagine a family where Yule wasn’t celebrated with traditions, it gave an ounce of explanation as to why her teacher seemed so cold.

“Are you going to let her keep it on?” Ethel Hallow asked incredulously.

“Be quiet, girl,” glancing at Mildred for the briefest of seconds, Miss Hardbroom clicked her fingers and textbooks appeared on every, single desk. “Turn to page twelve.”

* * *

* * *

Later that evening, Hecate sat in front of her mirror, conspicuously admiring the witch behind the glass who was in the process of brushing out her hair.

The sound of movement coming from outside, caused Hecate to glance towards the door. On the floor, Hecate saw, what she thought, looked like a stick of red and white stripes. Picking it up, Hecate read the inscription scrawled onto the small, brown label tied to the cane with ribbon.

_Everyone needs a tradition,_

Mildred

“Hiccup?” Pippa’s voice brought Hecate back into the room. She returned to her dressing table, holding up Mildred’s gift, unable to speak due to the lump in her throat. “A candy cane?” Pippa questioned.

“Is that what it is?” Hecate’s voice sounded gruff, and she saw her own emotion reflected in Pippa’s eyes.

“Yes, they’re a tradition..” Pippa looked at Hecate expectantly, looking for some sort of context.

“That’s What Mildred said,” was all Hecate managed to say, her lip shaking as she thought of the young witch who never failed to surprise her.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on;
> 
> Tumblr @ohlookitstomorrowff  
> Instagram @ohlookitstomorrow


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